


Through the Veil of Time

by Mother_Russia



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, America is a dick, Ancient History, Angst, Bottom England (Hetalia), Dissociative Identity Disorder, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic, Manipulation, Psychological Drama, Psychological Trauma, Scotland is a shite brother, Them Feels, Top America (Hetalia), Tragedy, Wales is a witch, War, us/uk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-11-28 13:17:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11418759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mother_Russia/pseuds/Mother_Russia
Summary: 2016. England and the rest of the world are undergoing dramatic changes. As the will of the people evolves and paradigms shift, so do the personifications of their nations. During one of the monthly meetings of the G8, Arthur Kirkland starts behaving strangely. All are frazzled and confused but France, for he has known the man for centuries and such suddent change in attitude is a great cause for concern. As England falls deeper into the abyss of his mind, will the most unlikely character, the arrogant America, be able to bring him back.





	1. It's about bloody time for BREXIT

**Author's Note:**

> My first ever fanfic, haha (nervously rubs face trying not to panic).  
> More tags and chapters to come so be gentle please.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> England is tired. So exhausted from handling the idiots in G8. Maybe... maybe it is time to put an end to it all.

He was walking through the cortyard, the heels of his Oxfords clicking softly upon contact with the meticulously pristine pavement. Before him was the towering glass walls of the United Nations Office in Geneva, the only place where nations put away their differences and gathered to discuss their issues freely.

A little boy rushed past him, laughing ecstatically and pulling on a string. On the other end there was a blue paper plane, jolting through the turbulent winds, but stubbornly staying afloat. The sunlight reflecting from the massive exterior of the tower illuminated the area around the man in the Gieves & Hawkes suit, sending ripples on the pavement surface as it bounced from the jiggling Graham watch on his wrist to the floor.

One might call this sight beautiful. But Arthur Kirkland could only disagree. His emerald eyes observed a different image, one that made him halt and cast his gaze to the UN office. The scorching sunlight melted his skin not shielded by a thick layer of high quality cotton. He felt exposed, vulnerable and immensely fatigued.

On a regular occasion, England would have taken a sick day and spent it under a blanket cuddling his hot water bottle and a box of tissues while watching reruns of Dounton Abbey and Poldark. However, today he was presenting an important report on global switching to sustainable energy sources and had to get into that bloody conference room even in a wheelchair.

As he braved the steps towards the entrance and opened the front door, he was greeted by a flustered concierge in his early twenties. All the way to the cloakroom the poor lad kept tripping over his trousers, evidently too long for his height. After handing his coat to the jittery youth, Arthur headed towards the elevators. He entered the nearest lift available and pressed the buton leading to the 23rd floor.

As the doors closed and Englad was left in solitude, a sigh escaped his lips and left a mark on the glass. He leaned forward, his blond fringe rubbing on the walls of the cabin and closed his eyes. He was just so tired. Of everything. Of the noisy streets, board meetings, rainy days, sunlit days, badly brewed tea and most of all the group of rowdy idiots he was heading towards. As the bell ringed and the doors opened, England stepped forward into the clamorous hallway.

***

"So the agenda for today's meeting is related to climate change. Before we begin, I would like all of you to ... ITALY! STOP PLAYING WITH THE CAT AND CONCENTRATE!" Germany snapped at Veneciano, who was squatting under the table and feeding the small spotted creature. As the tall, well built man slammed his hand on the table, the smaller one under it jumped in surprise and toppled the chair behind him.

"Veeeee...." squealed Italy as he landed flat on his bottom. As Germany scoffed and irritably grabbed the papers in front of him, Veneciano was helped out by an elegant man with shimmering black hair.

"Are you alright, Italy-san? You fell down pretty bad..."

"I'm OK, Japan." said Veneciano to the dark haired fellow and turned to Germany with tears in his eyes.

"Germany! You are being such a meanie, veee. What if I hit my head, cracked it, and died a virgin! Where are you going to get virgin olive oil from!?...."

"SCHEISSE, ITALY!" the angry man slammed the papers back onto the table and sent a murderous glare at the poor boy. "We don't have time for your idle dilly-dallying! The meeting has been running for 20 minutes and nothing, VERDAMMT NOTHING, has been done!!! I have a right to be angry!!!"

"Mon dieu, Germany. You are being way too harsh on him today." Uttered a hansdome man with magestic golden locks as he traced the glass of water in front of him with a finger. France flicked his hair and continued. "Plus, the rest of us, including our speaker, are not here yet so why the rush, hmm?"

Germany sighed and adjusted his glasses, which shifted considerably from their position during his emotional speech. "My point exactly! I would expect such disregard for the rules from that jerk America, but where the hell are the other two!?"

"Erm, I am right here, Germany." A practically invisible man whimpered behind Germany's chair as he poked the agitated fellow in the back.

"Mein Gott!!!" yelled the man as he jumped out of his chair in surprise. While clutching his chest, he glared at the meek blonde cuddling a polar bear plushie and said "Seriously, Canada! For the millionth time : DO NOT sneak up on me! "

"I, I am so sorry!" muttered the terrified boy as he clutched his plushie. "I kept trying to tell you from the beginning, but none of you noticed me when you came in..."

"Haha! That is so typical of you, mon cher." France laughed as he tapped the seat next to him, motioning for Canada to come over.

"Well, that is one down and two more to go. Where the hell are they!" mumbled Germany as he stroked his chin. Suddenly he was overcome with a concerning realisation.

"Hold on...Has England ever been this late?"

"Pah, of course not! That distasteful bastard may have absolutely no palette to speak of, but one thing he prides himself in is his punctuality." said France with a disapproving scoff. "He has got a stick up his ass when it comes to arriving on time. Even if he got hit by a car, went to the hospital, got a surgery and then rolled in here in a wheelchair, he would still be at least 5 minures early..."

Then he paused and sent a concerned look back at Germany. Everyone in the room went silent, all thinking the same thing. What could have happened to England to make him this late?

After a moment of deliberation, Japan broke the eerie atmosphere by asking "Should we go look for him? Maybe it's something serious..."

"There will be no need for that." said a calm voice from the entrance to the meeting room as the doors swung open. England walked in with an apathetic demeanor past the bewildered men to take his place by the projector.

He set his suitcase down and clicked the locks open. As he was taking out his documents, Arthur looked around and sighed "I understand you might be frustrated due to my tardiness. I sincerely apologise for that. However, we have wasted enough time for the meeting. Shall we start, Germany?"

"What?" mumbled Germany in a daze as he stared in surprise at England's nonchalant behaviour. However, it didn't take him long to recover and continue hurriedly "Oh, yes! Of couse, but... Are you ok?"

Arthur stared at the man with slight intrigue and replied "Obviously. Why wouldn't I be? I was late due to... traffic, that's all." He continued to prepare his presentation with visible detachment, while the rest of the room pondered his erratic behavior.

About 10 minutes into the report, when the screen was covered in images of giant aquatic windmills, solar panels and distribution diagrams accompanied by a disinterested speaker, the doors swung open again with a great force. The loud bang made everyone jump in their seats, including the half awake Italy.

"Hahaha! Whats up loosers! Da boss is in da house!" a well built young man yelled out ecstatically as he barged in with an all enveloping grinn. He confidently headed to an empty seat and collapsed into it, unceremoniously placing both of his feet on the table.

"So, what did I miss? Actually, don't tell me. I'm sure it was nothing interesting considering it's England's report." The blond man fixed his glasses and pulled a bottle of coke and a burger out of nowhere proceeding to voraciously consume it.

"SCHEISSE, America! This is too much, even from you!" barked Germany at the insolent lad rocking back and forth in his chair.

The object of his rage simply shrugged and answered with a smug expression "You gotta understand something, Germany. Unlike y'all I am a very busy man. Places to be, things to do. I should get an extra leeway when it comes to stuff like this."

"I don't think it works like that, America-san." said Japan questionably. America just waved his hand in disinterest and continued eating his food.

"Erm... Guys! I think Germany is about to explode vee!" nervously pinpointed Italy while shuffling towards the door in his chair.

"Oui, I agree." quickly responded France throwing a glance at the fuming man gripping the documents in front if him with a candid passion. "Come on, mon cher. Lets get away from the angry German." he added while hurriedly urging Canada to get out of the nearby seat.

Just as the cowards quickly left the field of battle, Germany used all of his willpower to keep himself from boiling over and asked with a threatening calmness. "Do you think that your 'business' is any more important than ours? We all have obligations, but we took the time to gather here for a reason. Does your insolence know no bounds?"

America was unfazed by the man's admonishing speech. He was still rocking in his chair and chewing his burger. Once he swallowed his food, he looked back confidently and said.

"Well, yes actually. Unlike you, Europeans, I don't waste my precious time on boring board meetings and idle talk. I act. That's why I am the superpower and y'all just struggle to keep up with my awesomeness, LOL."

There was a sound resonating through the room. The actual sound of Germany's patience snapping like a thin thread holding an elephant over a chasm. With a raging torrent filled with alligators right under it. The man lunged forward, eyes bloodshot, fists ready and an inhuman roar ripping through the room "AMERICAAAAAA!!!".

The target of this beastly rage jumped nimbly out of his seat and laughed. He hopped onto the table and playfully teased the infuriated German who was actively trying to strangle him.

Clearly enjoying himself, America didn't stop there. He decided to see how much further could he push the usually disciplined and composed man with a notoriously thick stick up his ass.

"Dude, you gotta chill out, yo!" he yelled while giggling like a child on a sugar trip. "Your nazi tendencies are leaking out."

Germany froze, the redness of his face offset by the paleness of hid knuckles. He shook with fury, his face darkened and eyes downcast. Suddenly he lunged forward, catching the mischievous America off guard, hands closing around the boy's arrogant neck as he pinned him down to the table with an inhuman force.

"Mon dieu, Germany! You are going to kill the boy!" yelped terrified France but made no attempt to come between the ferocious man and his still giggling prey. He, Italy and Canada were all huddled in the corner of the room, ready to bolt out the moment Germany's target shifts away from America.

The only calm person through this whole ordeal was Japan. He slowly stood up, observing the battle ongoing in front of him and walked towards the nearest wall. He fumbled around with some sort of lever and out of the ceiling descended a downour of ice cold water, covering the area of the table, but not extending beyond the line of chairs around it.

"Will you ever stop behaving like children?" he asked in a soft yet chastising voice as he walked back to the table with his brows furrowed in discontent. "I hope this cools you both down."

The two soaking wet men were lying speechless on top of the table and staring at the unusual way Japan was handling the sutuation. The latter pulled out a handkerchief from the breast pocket of his simple, yet elegant suit and wiped the chair in front of him. He then took out two more he had in his inner pocket and presented them to the pair upon the table while bowing apologetically.

As they picked up the offering, Japan proceeded to sit down and continued his speech. "It doesn't matter who is at fault in this unfortunate situation but the result is clear. You are not only being rude to each other, you are being extremely discorteous to England! If you haven't noticed, he was in the middle of his presentation."

As the man pointed out the obvious predicament, Germany released America's throat and staggered off the table, his shoes squeaking with moisture as he stepped awkwardly towards his seat. This action spurred the rest of the countries to return to their respective chairs and sit quietly in shame. All but America. He was unphased by Japan's lecture, but still got off the table to wring out his army jacket.

As everyone, with the exception of America, settled down somewhat, Germany smoothed his dripping hair back to their slick state prior to the unexpected shower and turned towards England.

"I apologise for my outburst. Would you mind continuing your speech, England?"

The man in question simply stood there, holding his notes while observing the room. Throughout the whole incident, England did not find the usual feeling of irritation or even exasperation within himself. Usually he would be the first to give America a long good tirade, which sometimes would get violent enough to have Germany restrain him.

But not this time. He was... Calm. Full of serene emptiness that enveloped him gently like a winter veil, dulling his emotions and draining him. He was so... Tired. There it was again. This evergrowing fatigue that has been eating at him for weeks.

England lifted the notes towards him, trying to return to the topic he was so rudely interrupted from. However, after glancing over the neverending pie charts, bar graphs and statistical mumbo jumbo he almost literally pulled out of his ass the night before, he lowered his hands slowly and raised his eyes to the door.

He decided. It was time to end this pathetic performance. "What's the point? " he said with a soft confident voice which reverberated through the room silent with anticipation.

Germany's eyebrows lifted upwards upon this statement as he asked hesitantly "Erm, what do you mean, England?"

Arthur Kirkland smirked coldly and trew his papers on the table, where they drifted away from him some falling to the floor, some sticking to the wood still wet from Japan's intervention. He looked down upon the dumbfounded German and continued.

"This whole renewable energy business seems to be counterproductive with this particular audience, don't you think?" he looked over to the chairs at the other end of the table and continued. "Italy and France are too shortsighted and economically unstable to consider completely switching to these new methods. You probably would consider this proposal, but it seems you are too busy babysitting the two selfish idiots as well as the rest of the European Union. I bet Greece alone is giving you enough grief as it is."

His gaze shifted towards Japan as the flood of apathetic commentary commenced once again. "Japan would definitely swich to renewable sources if he wasn't so busy battling with his own land, which is trying to either drown, bury or explode his ass. The nuclear power alone could level the whole island, you know."

England shifted his gaze towards the now-settled-in America. After giving him a cold once over, Arthur smirked and unleashed the beast of a speech he was feeding for decades.

"And America. The land of the free and the ignorant. He probably is the only one in the room capable of fully switching from the oil business, but he will not do so either in spite or on purpose. Is it because he is stubborn, or just plain foolish? Or maybe he owes a fortune to the Federal Reserve Bank, which caused him to beg the Gulf countries to buy his debt out putting him in a lifelong position of relying solely on the oil he gets from the greedy bastards. So yes, America is never switching to the "clean energy", Germany. Out of everyone here the only person capable and willing to put this information to good use is Canada. But then I could always arrange a private visit and sort this whole thing out."

After taking a breath, England continued yet again. "Now you tell me, Germany. Is there any point to conducting this meeting? Or even having this committee in the first place? It seems to me that all we do here is sit through talks about topics we pretend to care about then have a discussion leading nowhere and finally leave without planning to do anything about it."

He received no answer. Every other person in the room was silent with confusion as England reached under his chair for his briefcase and placed it on the table.

"Thought so..." he said "Well, gentlemen, as America put it so eloquently 'Places to be, things to do'. I am positively done here." England stepped out of his seat and headed for the door.

As he opened it, he turned towards the flabergasted room and stated. "Oh, and Germany?" his questioning tone caused the man in question to shudder and snap out of his stupor. "I quit."

"Quit?!" Germany finally opened his mouth to ask. "Quit what exactly?"

England smirked and replied. "The EU, of course. I grow weary of babysitting this sinking ship."

"It's all yours, darling." he added as he waved goodbye while casually walking out. The rest sat in momentary silence. Germany cast a terrified look towards France, who was equally concerned.

England has just pulled a BREXIT.


	2. The Darkness Within Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After England's sudden exit, Germany and France are dealing with consequences. But France is much more concerned than usual. It's as if... England's life may be in danger.

"Jeesus, man! The hell did he eat for breakfast to make him so bitchy?!" asked America, breaking the morbid silence in the room. Noone apart from him dared to raise their voice after England's dramatic exit.

Germany slowly lowered his head into his hands and sighed. He shook it left and right, rubbing holes into his eyesockets with trembling palms.

"This is not happening." he chanted in a low terrified voice. "This is NOT happening... France... Please tell me this is a nightmare?! Then pinch me so I can wake up!"

He peeked from his refuge, eyes red and face pale as the sheets of paper in front of him. France was no less ill-looking as he furrowed his brows and looked back.

"I... I am afraid he really meant it, Germany." he said with a dark expression and an unnaturally serious tone for the easy going France. The man rubbed his beard and looked down in contemplation. "This... This might be serious..."

"Mein Gott..." mumbled Germany as he finally grasped that whatever was happening _actually_  was happening. Then he raised his head abruptly and smoothed his yet again disheveled hair. The look on his face shone with pretense of previous seriousness and confidence typical to that of Germany.

He looked back at France and declared. "Alright then. We must prepare ourselves for the consequences. Though I warn you, it will not be easy. Such a sudden change will be hard to adapt to, but if we work together I think this might actually be possible."

He paused, worry clouding his sky blue eyes "However.... If we could..." he stopped to swallow nervously "If we could still convince England otherwise... It would be for the best. In reality, this decision would affect England the most and...not in a good way. I...I would not want him to go through that alone. But it seems that he is determined...."

Germany looked devastated. The sadness seeped from him like a mist from the deepest darkest marshes in existence. He knew how hard it is to break out of a century long alliance and honestly the consequences were so terrifying that he wouldn't wish it upon his worst enemy. Nevermind England.

The creases in France's brows deepened as he solemnly replied "Convincing him... Might not be our main issue. Things..." he trailed off, his eyes shifting nervously to the door "...might be slightly more complicated than that."

"Come on, dudes! " America interrupted as he leaned back, visibly annoyed. "What's the big freaking deal!? Y'all act as if the world is ending cause England flipped the table on one freaking meeting!"

He flashed his infamous million dollar smile and continued cheerfully "I know England better than all of ya, and this..." he circled his fingers in the air above him comically "... is just his monthly bitchfit."

"You see: England is a complete attention whore. He will nag, then he will get angry, then he will give ya 'the silent treatment', but eventually he will come crawling back as usual. In the worst case scenario he'll declare an embargo or something, but even that doesn't usually last long."

He spread his arms magnanimously and problaimed "Alas, my dudes, coming from long experience of dealing with England's shit, you are all very much O.VER.RE.AC.TING." He concluded while swaying his fingers in rhythm with the syllables as some sort of drunk conductor.

Satisfied with himself, America looked directly at France searching for clear signs of relief or amusement, but finding an irritated stare instead.

"You know, I have always wondered why you were being such a brat when it comes to England. I thought that was due to your personality and the fact that England spoiled you rotten as a child. But now I see." France smirked, poison in his voice unlike anyone has heard from him before.

"You take joy in pissing him off because he always forgives you in the end. No matter what you do, how you hurt him, how you damage him ... He always comes back. He somehow became your toy, an outlet to your childish cruelty... But even the sturdiest toys eventually break."

He sent a glare full of disgust at the conceited boy as he stood up "I stayed with him for centuries, way before you were even born, _garson_. You THINK you know him, America." he paused as he reached the door and turned the handle. After sending a final look of apprehension, an uncommon expression on his handsome face, he finished. "You don't."

France slammed the door shut with a great force, sending ripples through the tense air inside the room. America sat dumbfounded for a few moments, then scratched the back of his dirty blond hair and chuckled nervously.

"The heck?!..." He looked over to Germany and shrugged "Is everyone apart from me on fucking PMS, or something? Whats with the dramatic exits?! " He laughed at his own joke, but after the obvious lack of response and an unchanged strain in the atmosphere around him, America trailed off quetly and finally shut up.

"Meeting dismissed..." quetly said Germany with an unreadable expression as he stood up and headed to the exit. Italy, who remained huddled silently in his chair through the aggressive exchanges, hurried sheepishly after him without as much as a peep. Japan followed suit, his masterfull poker face probably hiding concern, but alas the man was utterly impossible to read.

America was left alone. He sighed and leaned back, looking at the bright lights embedded in the ceiling. He knew he was right. Hell, he was _always_ right.

These dudes needed to learn when to chill the fuck out. England was just being needy for attention. He always is. They will see! He will be back tomorrow as full of energy and as naggy as ever and everything will be back to normal. Everything will be fine...

Right?!

It's no big deal...Sure, England was a bit more... _savage_...this time. But he is known for having his way with words. And yes, he may have been way more calm while ripping into everyone else than usual, but...

Yes, thats it! He must be just tired...or sick... He was also late today, so maybe it's just a case of really bad taco bell indigestion. America knew all too well what that felt like.

Convincing himself into a relatively good mood, the boy got up and stretched. He cheerfully stomped to the exit and got into the elevator at the end of the corridor. As the floors slowly counted down to the ground, America started wistling "Anaconda", reveling in how such a good beat could support such crap lyrics. The song was amazing simply cause of that!

And yes, he might have been a tiny teeny bit more obnoxious today than usual, but England's not a whiny bitch! He used to be a freaking empire! He can take it...

He... He'll be fine...right?

As worry slowly creeped under his skin, by the time the lift doors opened at the ground floor his cheerful attitude was gone without a trace. Something about England didn't feel... _right_... today.

It must be the way he looked at him. Eyes missing the usual irritation and parental concern, but full of... _nothing_. It's as if all of England's emotions were sucked away, leaving a cold, calculating and utterly merciless... _thing_...inside.

He motioned to the concierge to get his jacket and car keys as he headed to the parking lot. He rubbed his hands nervously before starting his gigantic Hummer and roaring out into the street.

Everything will be fine....

***

In the darkness of the room, the table stood, wet, dripping and covered in papers. Noone cleaned up after the whole 'sudden tropical rainstorm' mess because of the way things progressed.

"I... don't have a ride home...." mumbled the boy sitting timidly in the corner of the room.

His teddy suddenly turned to him and asked. "Who are you again?"

"I'm Canada..."

***

" _Merde_!" exclaimed France angrilly, nursing his injured foot and leaning on the extremely thick mahogany door he tried to break earlier. Fighting the tears welling up in his eyes from either pain or frustration, he slowly moved away from it and fished out a phone from the back pocket of his trousers.

Germany was late. Mind you it was only by 3 minutes, but still annoying as hell. He called the man not so long ago, asking for his urgent assistance. Germany has been so busy with the whole BREXIT aftermath that France barely saw him for 3 weeks.

He sighed and banged his head gently on the door. It has been 3 weeks. 3 weeks of rushed review meetings, trade union strikes and a very unpleasantly surprised group of European countries.

He has not heard from England since. Noone has. At first he thought that the man simply decided to cut all ties with Europe, but after talking to a few unrelated countries it appeared he disappeared off the radar completely.

The first place he searched for the missing man was obviously his house. Getting no response was only slightly worrying during the first 3 days, but as the weeks dragged on the creeping feeling of dread took over.

And now, 3 weeks later, France found himself helplessly banging on England's door, praying that the idiot didn't do anything even more impulsive than cutting ties with the entire world.

Shaking the ominous thought out of his conscious mind, France resumed his knocking.

"Sorry I am late, France!" he heard exclaimed behind him as a tall blonde man hurried towards him, tripping over the nearby bushes. Germany reached the door and looked at France, trying to conquer his rapid breathing. "What is this about?! You sounded concerned..."

"Concerned?! " interjected France with an aggravated expression. " _Concerned_!? Germany, England has been missing for weeks and has probably locked himself inside this damn house doing God knows what!!! I am DESPERATE at this point!"

Germany sighed, exhaustion evident in his slumped shoulders "Mein Gott... I thought it was something urgent, like a tsunami or a flood..."

"It is urgent! He might be..."

"Exactly! 'MIGHT be' being the key word here. While you are being paranoid over something that might be happening, I have to deal with the problems ALREADY at our doorstep. By the way, you haven't filed the forms I gave you last week about the reviewed import laws, did you? "

"Don't change the subject, Germany! This is England's well being we are talking about..."

"I suppose that means you didn't. You do know that if they are not filed on time you are going to have to pay tax for all imported goods for the next financial quarter? "

"SCREW your quarters and your goods! England might be dead for all we know... "

"Since when are you such buddies with him, France?" Germany cut him off sharply, exhaustion morphing into anger on his face.

France stumbled and looked back at Germany. He was a mixture of denial, fear and concern, his gaze shifting nervously to the door as he breathed out to calm himself.

He knew exactly what the stern man was referring to. England and France fought like cats and dogs over the most pettiest of issues and even had a 'war' of sorts going on for 7 centuries. But even then, France never actually _wanted_ for England to die. Sure, he strived to rough the Brit up a bit to bring his gigantic ego down a knotch, but DEATH? That was too extreme...

No matter what he did, England always bounced back. France knew which boundaries could be crossed and which needed to be avoided like the plague lest he be mercilessly crushed. He also knew which ones should be kept in a steel bunker underground, their existence never mentioned, forgotten and buried.

France looked straight into Germany's eyes, his will wavering in front of the unmovable practicality before him. He could not do it. He _promised_. It was not his cross to bear.

But desperate times bring desperate measures. And whatever is going on inside that damn house, he would bet all of Normandy that it was urgent.

Sighing deeply he started with a barely audible murmur " You see, Germany. England...he...he has lived a long life. As did we all..."

He paused and crushed the nagging voice of his conciousness screaming at him to shut up. "We all tend to accumulate secrets, and England is no different. I... I don't know when it started, but I... I have seen him acting like this before..."

"Wait a minute..." Germany cut him off, while rubbing his temple violently " You have SEEN him like this before? All broody, unreasonable and with a tendency to make world shattering decisions on a fucking whim?!"

The look of incredulity changed to raw anger within seconds "When were you going to tell me about that, huh France? Might gave been fucking useful 3 weeks ago!!!"

"I am not even supposed to be telling you now, Germany! I PROMISED him! On my fucking life!" France bawled as his immaculately manicured nails dug into the palms of his hands drawing blood.

He swallowed a sob and continued with courage stemming from concern and utter despair "He...has done some things... Horrible, atrocious things...I..." he looked up at now confused Germany and sighed "...can not tell you the exact details but it...changed him...in ways we can't even comprehend. The weight...mon dieu, Germany...the weight he carries is...impossible to bear."

He wiped the tears of betrayal and regret from his face, past the point of no return, and mumbled "But he did...he did bear it. I have no idea how he has not gone insane all this time, but...there have been a few...close calls over the years. He always, ALWAYS snapped back into his usual self so I..." France bowed his head, golden locks drooping in shame "I let him be..."

The two stood in silence for a few moments. But before Germany managed to probe any further, the flood gates have opened and words, sharp as razors, came pouring out of France.

"One day, I believe it was some time after the Blitz, I went to see England and help in any way I could. He was...surprisingly uninjured, with a few minor bruises but nothing too serious."

"As I came closer I noticed...he was cradling a half finished bottle of whiskey in his left hand and looking bleakly out the window, observing all the destruction with a morbid fascination. He didn't respond when I called him, I... I don't think he even registered that I was there. As I came closer, he smiled. And not the one we are used to, fake politeness and forced tolerance, it was...empty."

Painful pause.

"An empty smile for an empty man."

"And then he raised his right hand to his face and put a gun in his mouth."

Silence and tension permeated the air.

"If I did not tackle him, he would have put a bullet through that brain of his and splattered it so prettily on the walls of the parlament."

"So, yes, Germany. We should be in a hurry to break through that fucking door."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So finally spat this out. Kind of was in the middle of my graduation when this happened so sorry for the delay.


End file.
